


weatherworn and wilting

by starrylitme



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Actually this relationship thing in general is kinda dubious, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, SDR2 Spoilers mentioned in passing, Sex that's just a tiny bit dubious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaky. Fragile. Always trying to run away from me yet always so weak you still come back.</p>
<p>In which Hinata holds onto him just a little bit tighter, even if it's in vain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	weatherworn and wilting

**Author's Note:**

> A little inspired by some pixiv works I rather liked a lot. Someday I will write happier stuff. Someday. For now, have a quick PWP.

The weather already didn’t look promising when he glanced briefly out the window—with menacing, looming dark clouds and a sharp breeze that made the leaves in the tree tremble and the branches quiver. But as the storm grew closer, his heart pounded louder when a certain someone failed to show up.

By the time it was getting late and despite how dangerously set in motion the tempest was, Hinata yanked on his rain coat and rushed outside.

It was hard to see with only brief flashes of light overhead, the rain pouring down so harshly that his ears nearly rang when a blast of thunder accompanied the incessant pitter-patter. The ground was slick but he fortunately didn’t trip as his feet slammed down against the dirt and concrete.

Despite how loud it was, despite how dark it was, he still searched and called for him. Hinata yelled his name until his voice was hoarse despite his mouth full of rainwater. His feet started aching after what he could only assume was an hour of running, and the coat only barely protected him from the rain—it did nothing about the chill.

“Shit,” he cursed, looking down yet another empty road and off into a just as empty field. No sign of life. Everything was abandoned to the storm. “ _Shit_.”

The chill pricked at his face and hands as he rose them one last time to shout his name. The roaring winds responded followed by a blast of thunder. Lightning flashed overhead, and Hinata could for a moment think it was urging him forward. Calling for him to continue this hopeless search until the storm consumed him.

He hesitated—images of _his_ downtrodden body in a ditch, of a drenched burnt cadaver taunted him, too. But self-preservation instinct pulled at him too.

And then that body—that _corpse_ in those images became his own and Hinata froze up as there was another clap of thunder.

With that, he turned around, feet hurting and cold biting, and headed home.

* * *

“Nagito...?” The name he’d been screaming was only a croak now as he stumbled inside, shivering and ready to collapse. His coat slid off, his shoes were kicked off, and Hinata was ready to black out once he hit the couch and...

“Hinata-kun.”

He spun around, eyes wide and boggling at the frail, dripping form behind him at the door. Downcast and clouded green eyes met his own, a trembling smile on those lips like stitches to something still falling apart. Still, as a ghostly pale hand shut the door behind him, Hinata stumbled to get forward.

“Nagito,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around him and pressing into him until his back thudded against the door. Komaeda trembled a bit under the force and shivered in his embrace, but Hinata held him tighter. His nose went to nuzzle into his neck, kissing the raindrops off his skin even with normally wild white hair wilting and heavy with rainwater. Komaeda’s skin was almost translucent— _no doubt from the storm_ —and the surface was freezing as his lips pressed to his pulse. His green jacket— _the only protection he had_ —was soaked through and really, Hinata’s arms felt like they were wrapped around human-shaped ice over an actual human being.

But with Komaeda’s racing heart pressed against his own, the thin hesitant arms wrapping around his shoulders in return, and the soft, soft sigh brushing against his ear... He really, really couldn’t complain.

“Come on,” he says, pulling back a bit to brush the hair stuck to Komaeda’s face away from his dazed gaze. “Let’s get you dried up.”

“Hinata-kun, I’m freezing.”

It was a belated observation, and Hinata would have chuckled had that dejected expression on Komaeda’s face faded. But it didn’t, so he only leaned forward and meshed their lips together. Those lips were soft no doubt about it, but it was still like kissing ice.

Hinata flicked his tongue against him before simply agreeing with the assessment and tugging him away.

* * *

“You’re being rough,” Komaeda complained as he scrubbed his hair with a towel. The strands were starting to puff up, to his relief, but Komaeda kept shaking and making drying him off all the more difficult. The protests weren’t helping either. “Are you angry?”

“I’m furious,” Hinata told him, stopping only for a moment to pull him into another kiss. “You disappeared, Nagito. You disappeared and I had no idea where you were for _hours_. It was storming outside and _I still didn’t know where the hell you were_.”

Komaeda didn’t apologize—he probably wouldn’t have meant it anyway. Hinata just strips down his wet clothes with a sigh, peeling them off his skin and tossing them into a pile. He does chuckle a bit when he notices, “Your boxers are still dry, at least.”

“Yes, they are...” Komaeda noted curtly as Hinata pulls the towel around him as a makeshift blanket. Komaeda glances at him, briefly, but drops that gaze immediately when Hinata gives him an adoring smile.

“Hey, Na...”

“It’s dangerous to go out in a storm like that,” Komaeda tightly grips the towel around him with his one good hand, drawing Hinata’s attention to the sad stump of the other. “I...saw you, Hinata-kun. I can’t believe you would do something so reckless like that...”

‘ _Looking for me’..._ They both know what he left out. Komaeda curls in more on himself as Hinata blankly stares.

“You know...” he starts. “One of the reasons why I came home first was because I thought about what could happen to me...”

Komaeda muffles a weak laugh, and Hinata continues.

“Then I thought about the face you’d make if you stumbled across such a thing.”

“Huh...?” Just as Komaeda glances up, Hinata pushes him down and tears the towel out of his grasp. Komaeda yelps at first, though his voice breaks up into a whine as warm hands run up his torso. Hinata looms over him, watching his panting mouth and how his chest rises and falls. “Hinata-kun?”

Shaky. _Fragile_.

_**Always trying to run away from me. Yet always so weak you still come back.** _

His fingers thread through Komaeda’s hair as his other hand traced the delicate curve of his cheek. Hinata curled over him, their faces a scant distance apart and sharp hazel eyes digging into cloudy green doe ones. Then their lips met.

Komaeda’s hand clenched in Hinata’s shirt, but besides that there was nothing else before Hinata pulled away, cupping his face. “When I woke up, you were nowhere to be found. I waited, and you still didn’t come around. Where do you even go when you disappear, Nagito?”

There was no answer, but Hinata didn’t expect one—instead he hugged the other tightly. “Will you leave again after this, too?”

“If I tell you I will... What are you going to do, Hinata-kun?” Komaeda asks, pulling him closer with his other wrist going to press beside his grip on his shirt. A gesture without practicality, but Hinata thinks he gets it. And his breath is hot against Komaeda’s neck when he finds his answer.

“I’ll demand you compensate in advance.”

_**If I break you... You won’t be able to run away anymore, right?** _

With that, he pulled Komaeda’s hand from his shirt. Ignoring the other’s protest and taking his wrist so he couldn’t do anything about it, Hinata moves down to set his sights on Komaeda’s trembling hips. He hooks his finger in the waistband of those still dry boxers, and when he starts tugging, Komaeda shakes his head furiously to get his attention.

“You’re not even the slightest undressed!” A legitimate complaint. One he ignored for now as he stripped away that last article of clothing. Komaeda continues to whine, but Hinata halts most of those protests once he parts the other’s thighs...and wraps his hand around his cock.

The shudder that breaks through Komaeda is immediate and encouraging, so he takes the tip in his mouth, squeezing and stroking the rest of the base. Komaeda sobs incoherently— _though Hinata likes to think he heard his name somewhere in that garble_ —and if only to overwhelm him further, takes him in deeper and swallows.

It’s shamefully easy to knock Komaeda over the edge. Shamefully, _perversely_ easy, and as Komaeda comes with a cry and Hinata gulps it down before the bitter taste can linger, this time is no different. Komaeda’s easily exhausted, too, and it only makes him more pliant to do as Hinata wishes.

“You’re drooling,” he notes, shoving his fingers into Komaeda’s mouth, but not harsh enough to make him gag. The last thing Hinata wants is to hurt him. Even if, with Komaeda’s luck, that might be for the best.

But he can’t bring himself to think that way. Especially as Komaeda’s tongue lethargically lavishes his fingers, moaning lowly. Hinata feels heat building up in his gut as he tugs at his collar. His crotch is starting to strain against his pants, too.

Hinata shuts his eyes as he pulls his fingers from Komaeda’s spit-slick lips—and only opens them again after tugging Komaeda to where he was nearly in his lap, to see the look on Komaeda’s face when his slick fingers travel down to his rump and begin to pierce into his heat. Komaeda jerks once and shivers, biting his lip and pale cheeks flushing a horrendous red.

No matter how many times they do this, he still acts like it’s his first.

“No, Nagito,” Hinata coos, coaxing his lower lip from his teeth and pushing his finger deep inside. Komaeda flinches with a gasp, and Hinata kisses him as a distraction while another finger joins his first. He’s careful as he stretches him, and watches him as they kiss.

When he deems the other ready, Komaeda murmurs his name against his lips as his fingers pull out. “Hinata-kun...”

“It’s going to be a bit rough,” he warns as he pushes him to the floor again, positioning himself at his entrance. “I’m sorry, Nagito.”

“I love you, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda weakly smiles up at him; he keeps smiling as Hinata breaches inside of him. He winces once, but keeps smiling and it’s almost eerie.  But as Hinata thrusts, hands gripping delicate hips and listening to Komaeda’s breath catch every now and then...it feels more like a twisted parody he still wants to laugh at.

“Say it again,” he orders, and Komaeda chuckles. He obeys with that same, unsettling wide-eyed innocence.

“I love you.”

_Do you even_ **_know_ ** _what that means? Do you even understand when I tell you that I..._

“I love you too, Nagito.” His fingers tighten against his hip, so much so that Hinata can imagine the bruises later. With that, he angled his thrusts, searching until he found that spot that would have Komaeda cry out.

Komaeda does moan for him, eagerly push back when he briefly pulls out and his hand cups his nape. He doesn’t plead for more, but Hinata gives anyway, and he takes as well with hands that begin roaming the lithe body underneath and teeth marking his neck with love bites.

It’s shamefully easy to lose himself in Komaeda. Always has been. As Hinata sinks his fingers in deeper and thrusts deep inside to release, this is no different. Komaeda comes gasping out his name again, and it’s a miracle he doesn’t black out.

Hinata’s tempted to collapse over him, to fall apart and bury Komaeda. But he doesn’t, instead slothfully pulling out of him and gathering the other into his arms to wash him. Komaeda’s still panting, eyes half-lidded and in a daze between aware and fading. Hinata doesn’t think about how easier carrying Komaeda has gotten.

The shower goes by with a thankful amount of ease, and afterwards, he dries Komaeda off properly. Komaeda does manage to dress himself but still needs Hinata’s help to bandage his wrist. They go to bed but before spooning him, Hinata wraps him up in blankets to make Komaeda’s later, inevitable escape attempt trickier.

Of course, Komaeda does squirm, and Hinata shushes him, coaxes him to slumber. His arms tighten, but still Komaeda tries to move. Then he grunts out a whine, and Hinata only briefly loosens his grip with a heavy sigh, and then...

Komaeda turns to face him, buries his face in his chest, and wraps his blanket-draped arms around his back, pressing into his shoulder blades. Hinata holds him immediately in return, chest tight as he murmurs into his lover’s soft white hair...

“I love you, Nagito.”

Komaeda’s light breath tickles his ear. “Love you too, Hinata-kun.”


End file.
